


i wanna give you a kiss

by mayaschuyler



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Crack, Dirty Talk, Fantasizing, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Narcissism, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 11:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5926044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayaschuyler/pseuds/mayaschuyler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not that Thomas was ashamed. Everyone knew he was vain. <i>He</i> knew he was vain. He embraced this narcissistic side of himself, indulged it frequently, especially in public. It’s just that some things were better left in the dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna give you a kiss

**Author's Note:**

> i...don't even know what to say.
> 
> sorry not sorry?

If anyone asked him, he’d deny it.

It’s not that Thomas was ashamed. Everyone knew he was vain. _He_ knew he was vain. He embraced this narcissistic side of himself, indulged it frequently, especially in public. It’s just that some things were better left in the dark.

Which is how Thomas found himself stark naked before the floor length mirror in his bedroom, hand moving slowly up and down his hard, thick cock. His golden brown skin was flushed and shiny with sweat. His eyes were dark and glassy, lips full and red from being bitten. As he swept a thumb over the head of his cock on the upstroke, his abs tightened involuntarily and he couldn’t stop the deep groan that escaped his throat.

“Fuck,” his whispers only added to his enthusiasm, the gravelly baritone of his voice making his toes curl. _Shit._

He leaned forward and braced forward on the mirror, not caring about the marks it would leave. He pressed his forehead against his forearm, his heavy breaths steaming the mirror. His hand was moving furiously now, pre-come dribbling out of the tip. On the upstroke, he would catch some on his finger and use it as lubrication. He closed his eyes, taking in the sounds of his breathing and slick wetness of his hand. 

He thought about watching himself. About _being_ watched while watching himself. He could hear the taunts, his partner fully clothed, pacing back and forth as they watched him bring himself off. Spitting insults at him about how desperate and pathetic he looked, how he needed to be quiet so no one would find them. What if someone came in and saw him? The great Thomas Jefferson jerking off to his own god damn reflection? Taking instructions from another person on where to touch, how to touch, what to say…

“God, fuck me,” he lifted his head, eyes squeezed shut while he fought back an orgasm. All sense of embarrassment was gone and he did nothing to hold back his noises. “Jesus. So good. So fucking good.” He lifted his forearm off the mirror, instead pressing his palm there to push himself back and get a better view. His hair bounced with the force of his strokes, every muscle in his body tensed, prepared for the explosion.

“You,” he breathed out, “look so god damn good. So good. So fucking _hot_. Gonna come all over yourself just from this. _Christ—_ “ He shouted in surprise as he shot off, come streaking across the mirror. He didn’t slow down, a litany of praise and curses streaming from his mouth as the tidal waves only seemed to grow bigger.

He took in the completely debauched sight; beads of sweat on his skin, hair wilder than before, his hand with come. his hand tightened on his still hard dick and when his bicep bulged, he felt a new tidal wave crash through his belly. 

He head was thrown back, unintelligible noises escaping him as he came again, less intense this time. Come merely dribbled down his knuckles and as the high dispersed, he realized how shaky he felt.

Letting go of his dick, he all but collapsed against the now dirty mirror, laughing breathlessly. He caught his eyes in the reflection, leaned forward, and smiled.

He pressed his lips against the mirror. “You,” he pecked it again, “are fucking amazing.”

**Author's Note:**

> ...still don't know what to say.


End file.
